


first taste

by palalabu



Series: post-race 2020 [1]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Celebrations, Face-Fucking, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:35:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25221007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palalabu/pseuds/palalabu
Summary: “There you are. My podium finisher.”
Relationships: Lando Norris/Carlos Sainz Jr
Series: post-race 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1828771
Comments: 6
Kudos: 170
Collections: Just pure filth





	first taste

“There you are. My podium finisher.” Carlos says as he casually leans against Lando’s hotel room door. “So, what do you want? For your present.”

When Carlos welcomed Lando back to their garage and told him that he deserves the podium, Lando’s response was telling Carlos that he should give him a present then. But he really didn't expect Carlos to take him seriously and to visit Lando’s room after the celebration and the debrief, asking what he truly wants from Carlos. 

So Lando can only laugh. “I was just joking.”

“Ah. But I mean it, you can ask something from me.”

“Well…,” Lando grins cheekily, “Just keep staying behind me for the rest of this year would be good.”

“Cabron,” Carlos raises his hands to stop Lando from talking any more nonsense, “don’t push it. Come on. Anything else, other than that.”

Lando tries to think. But then only comes up with a sigh, because he really can’t think of anything he wants from Carlos. 

Well, anything that’s appropriate between teammates that is. 

“Really?” Carlos raises his eyebrow, “Nothing?”

The looks he gives Lando is searing. And Lando doesn't even know if it was really the way Carlos stares at him, or it’s all just in Lando’s head. Carlos really is dangerous and bad for Lando’s mental health. 

“Nothing you can give me, anyway. I think.” Then he adds. “I’m pretty sure.” And tries not to blush too much. 

Which, he knows he probably fails, but hey, it’s the thought that counts. 

“Try me.” Carlos shrugs. “It’s your first podium, no? Youngest--”

“Third youngest--”

“No. Not that one.” Carlos cuts him, although Lando is sure he knows his title better, thank you very much. “Youngest British driver on F1 podium. Beating Hamilton.” 

Lando can't even stop his ridiculous giggles anymore. That does sound nice. Especially coming from Carlos. 

“Come on. I’m sure I can give you something.”

“I doubt it.”

It is then happening in a quick succession, from Carlos pushing him inside, closing the door, then dragging him until he sits on his own bed. And it’s not until Carlos drops on his knees between Lando’s legs that he understands what kind of present that Carlos refers to. 

“I’ve said ‘anything’, right?”

“Mmhm.” Lando nods, but is still very much surprised and made speechless by the whole situation.

Especially with Carlos’ face that close to his crotch. And fuck, how he misses to see Carlos’ whole face without the mask. And his full lips.

“Can I fuck your mouth?” 

The question comes out in one quick, unbridled breath, and Lando definitely didn't expect the huge grin on Carlos’ face that follows. 

“I’ve told you.” He tells Lando as he gets even closer. “Anything.” Then he lifts Lando’s shirt to expose a thin strip of skin, and presses those full lips against Lando’s sensitive skin. “For my little podium finisher.”

“Oh fuck.”

Lando can feel himself quivering at the point where Carlos’ lips touch him. Can feel Carlos fumbling around, trying to unbutton and unzip his pants. Can feel Carlos’ knuckles brushing against his quickly growing bulge. And Lando can’t help himself to buck up. Trying to get closer to all those sensations. To Carlos. 

“Such a kid,” Carlos tells him, as he palms Lando’s cock over his pants, “So easy to get hard.”

Lando bites his lip. Because it’s so embarrassingly true. And he also could come so easily if Carlos kept touching him like this. Because Lando has no self control and can’t stop himself from lifting his ass so he could grind himself better against Carlos’ palm. 

“Oh god fuck shit, Carlos.”

“My mouth or my hand you want, Lando?” Carlos is teasing him. And Lando swears he could die from it. 

“Fuck.” It takes everything from him to stop himself. “Mouth.” But he manages to let Carlos pull down his trousers. 

And honestly Lando could do without all the fanfare. But Carlos is pulling down his pants so slowly, that his red, hard cock springs embarrassingly and strikingly as it is released from its confine. 

Carlos doesn't spare him any second to feel shy about it though. As he surges forward, right away, and starts to trail gentle kisses up on the underside from the base. And when he reaches the tip, he looks up at Lando, lets the head catch on his lower lip, before pulling it into his mouth. All the while, keeping his searing gaze on Lando, setting Lando’s whole body burns even hotter. 

Carlos is toying him. Sucking on his leaking tip with his hand stroking at the base. Ignoring Lando’s whine for more, or how white his knuckles are from gripping the sheet. And Lando isn't prepared for how filthy the sound is when Carlos finally actually goes down on him and takes his whole length. Or how soft and hot and tight it is inside his mouth that Lando can’t stop himself from bucking his hip, hitting the back of Carlos’ throat, causing the older to almost gag and pull away. 

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry. Fuck. Shit.”

He tries to keep himself down and keeps apologizing. So ashamed of himself. But shaking so hard from stopping himself from thrusting with abandon into Carlos mouth. And it doesn't help that Carlos just stay there, still holding Lando inside his mouth while he’s trying to manage his breath. Lando is just ready for Carlos to end it right there and then. 

But instead, Carlos starts to bob his head, pulling up almost all the way, before diving back down until the tip of his nose meets Lando’s abs. And it’s amazing. Lando could just sit there and watch himself disappear into Carlos’ mouth, with those gorgeous red lips forming a perfect O around his cock. He thinks how dirty it is that they’ve never even kissed, but Carlos' mouth has already touched his most private part. And he could come from that thought alone. 

That is until Carlos stops and reaches for one of Lando’s hands. He places it on top of his head with a loaded look, before pulling away completely and murmurs low against Lando’s sensitive hard on, “You said you wanna fuck my mouth.”

Lando watches and curses again as Carlos puts his hand on top of Lando’s. And even a guy as dumb as Lando knows what it means. So he clutches on the dark tresses and starts to push Carlos’ head down, down, down until his lips touch his base. Then he pulls his head up, so that his cock slides slowly inside Carlos’ velveteen mouth until it comes out with an obscene pop. And the way Carlos’ lips just stay there, mouthing at his dick. The way he tilts his head so his tongue could chase and lick Lando’s precum. Or how his stubbles graze against his sensitive skin.  _ Shit. _ Lando will never forget that. And that’s what Lando will jerk off of for the rest of his life. 

But there’s something about being inside Carlos’ mouth that can’t be beaten by these images alone that Lando just has to grip the back of his head and starts to thrust rhythmically into his mouth and just chases his own orgasm. 

That is until Carlos hollows his cheeks and sucks on Lando harder that Lando can’t even stop himself from pushing even deeper. “Fuck. Carloscarloscarlos…” He just holds Carlos’ head there, forbids him from moving. And he thrusts deep into the back of Carlos’ throat before spilling his cum into his warm, welcoming mouth. Just reveling in the feeling of how Carlos’ throat works around him, trying to swallow around him. 

And as Lando lets himself fall back into the bed, he feels like he’s floating. So high from his climax that he can’t even tell if standing on the podium could beat this or not. He just feels so good, lying there, basking in the afterglow, watching Carlos standing up, wiping Lando’s cum from his lips with the back of his hand. And for the first time noticing Carlos’ own hard on underneath his slacks. 

He can’t tear his eyes away as Carlos palm himself before unbuttoning his trousers and slipping his hand inside. And his lips start to feel dry when Carlos pulls himself out and just strokes himself lazily right there, at the foot of Lando’s bed, with him just lying there, watching him. Lando can’t look away, knowing Carlos got that hard just from having Lando’s cock and cum in his mouth. And with his head still in a haze, Lando already has his hand reaching out, without even realizing, when Carlos catches it and once again asks him what he wants. 

“Let me taste you.”

This time he’s the one who manages to make Carlos curse. And he’s kissed on the back of his hand, before Carlos gets on the bed, straddling him, and crawling up until his knees on either sides of Lando’s face. 

Carlos lets his cock to fall on Lando’s face, smearing precum on his cheek, the tip of his nose, while Lando just waits there, under him, with his mouth agape and ready for Carlos. 

“Fuck. You’re so pretty like this,” Carlos grunts as Lando takes him into his mouth. 

Lando lets Carlos fucks his mouth slowly, just enjoying having his mouth full with Carlos’ taste and scent. Watching Carlos watching him savoring his cock. And Lando wouldn’t have minded it if Carlos wanted to push into him harder. But Carlos pulls out when he gets closer to his climax and strokes himself hard before he spills himself all over Lando’s face. 

He’s smeared with cum. And Lando can’t help but to think of another warm, white liquid he poured himself with earlier that day. Except, when Carlos kisses him this time, pushing his own cum with his tongue into Lando’s mouth, mixing it with their saliva, Lando is sure it tastes much sweeter than the Moet. 

Carlos then rolls over him and both of them just are just lying there next to each other, staring at the ceiling of an old hotel room in Spielberg. The same hotel where they played football last year. And Lando remembers how dry his mouth felt and how he was so thirsty. Not because of all the sweat he lost, but because of what he saw. Sweaty Carlos in his all golden skin glory, shirtless, tackling Lando into the grass. Sometimes even when the ball was nowhere near them. 

So perhaps they could’ve fucked earlier than this if Lando wasn't such a bumbling, awkward teenager then. And it’s not like he’s helplessly useless when he’s around Carlos. He could joke around and be funny. But act charming and flirty, that’s a whole different thing. And he probably better milks it while it’s on the offer. 

“So. Will I get more of this if I finish on the podium again?”

“Definitely.” Then after a moment. “I’ll finish on top of you though next time.” 

“Carlos, I did let you finish on top of me.” 

He watches as Carlos turns to face him in confusion. And let a few seconds pass between them before it dawns on him. 

Carlos chuckles and offers him his fist for Lando to bump. “That is a nice one, cabron.” 


End file.
